red himself three fingers of additional
courage. "You're not sorry at leaving your wife?" he inquired. "Ellen
meant a lot to you, didn't she, Garth?"

Garth shrugged. "She's safe enough where she is. That's all that
matters."

Dollard poked him in the ribs. "All that matters ... is survival. You
know that, Garth." He chuckled. "Why bother to save anybody else?"

"That's right, sir," said Garth. The muscles of his face continued to
compress his features into an unbending mask.

"And one thing's certain, there's no hope for humanity. Not on this
planet, at any rate--or not for a long while, I'm positive. You know
what they're saying now?"

"No."

"The bigdomes are asserting that only a complete mutation among the
unborn can save the higher forms of organic life. Get this, Garth.
They say that all the vertebrates, and particularly all mammals, will
have to develop new germ-resistant species--or the plague will
eventually kill off even the strongest. What's more, those damned
Asiatics are in the same boat with us, _at last_."

Garth mulled over the news. He said, "Then, any survivors on earth
will have to mutate into something other than mankind?"

"That sums it up...." Edwin Dollard raised his highball. "Here's to
_homo the sap_," he said in mock salute to the vanishing human race.
"The chump had a short life but a merry one--on Terra, anyhow. The
poor sucker spent his days in a dream world of fraternity and
equality. And all along, we, his superiors, enjoyed the liberty to
work him to death for our own benefit. It's a shame there won't be any
earthly historians to record man's final irony ... how we who made
full use of the hordes for our convenience should be virtually the
only ones to escape the hordes' destruction."

"I see," mused Garth. "That means there's not really much hope for the
ones we're leaving behind? I guess I'd always thought...." His words
trailed off.

"... that there'd be a few survivors?" Dollard supplied. "Perhaps
there will, more probably there won't. What does it matter? There's
only one chance in a thousand of licking the plague ... from the way
the bacteriologists are wailing. And even if the race does survive,
what sort of existence would it have--battling who knows what kind of
monsters some of the other forms of life are bound to change into? No,
I'm here to tell you, Garth, the remainder of the race is better
off--exterminated. The few plague-free people we'll find on Venus will